


Game On

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Comfort Sex, Cunnilingus, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Sex, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Gen, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Rimming, Sexual Themes, Stupid sexy Hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8100391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Infatuation on sight is rare and deadly.  You are immediately taken in by the handsome archer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If this is received well, maybe you'll get an added smut, but you gotta comment and tell me you want it, otherwise it will remain a one shot forever.

“-So then I said, ‘that’s an ace-high asshole if I ever saw one’!”

 

“Oh my god, what the hell,” You cackle, McCree laughing loudly beside you, an arm using your shoulder as a balance.  You begin a joke (your favorite about the blind girl giving a blowjob) before something-rather someone catches your eye.  “Wait-” you say urgently, flailing an arm to stop Jesse by the chest.

 

In the center of you gaze is the most gorgeous man that you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

 

Thick black tresses tied up with a long piece of ornate cloth, eyes as dark as the sea in a hurricane, with the most brooding expression you’ve ever seen.  Thick, muscular arms with- and you swear you began to drool- a full sleeve past the shoulder of a dragon in a storm curling onto a revealed pectoral.  You start to sweat.  He’s unbelievably handsome.  You find the deep eyes on you, and you find yourself unable to function under such pressure.  You can’t breathe.  

 

_ Shit he’s coming this way! _

 

“Good morning, McCree,” he says, and his voice rolls like thunder.  He stops in front of you.   _ Oh no. _

 

“Mornin’ Hanzo!  You’ve met (Y/n), haven’t ya?  Never met anyone more creative, if ah do say so!” replies with pristine clarity, smacking you on your back.  You realize that you’ve been staring this entire time.

 

His eyes turn on you, your body tensing, feeling exposed under such an intense stare.  The way his eyes are trained on you makes you sense him appraising you like an interesting item, or jewel.  “I do not think we have met.  I am Hanzo Shimada.  And you are?” he questions with a small bow- more of a tipping of the head really- and extends his hand.  

 

You snap from your trance, managing a shaking, “Y-y-yes!  Yeah, yes, um, I’m (F/n) (L/n).  Ch-charmed to meet y- uh- you!  Truly!”  You shake his steady hand with your trembling one.  

 

He takes your hand in both of his, examining your hands.  “Are you a Medic?”

 

You swallow thickly.  You somehow manage an answer.  Jesse is just sitting there, enjoying your beautiful agony.  You almost whimper as his hands ( _ strong, nimble, engaged _ ) stroke your fingers, examining your callouses.  “A-ah!  Yes, indeed! I a-am a surgeon and prosthetics mechanic!  How did you per- um, know?”

 

“You have a doctor’s hands.  Callouses.  You are either a Medic or an artist”.  You can’t get over his voice.  You wonder how it would sound in heated air, thick with pleasure-  _ no no don’t go there- _

 

“Well, I-I-I um  _ do  _ draw, though not as often, there’s just not much  _ time _ and I’m just alwayssobusytendingtoeveryoneandnowI’mrablingI’msorryI’lljustshutupnow”.  You could have waterboarded yourself, you’re such an absolute spaz.

 

Handsome McGee- _ Hanzo, he gave you his name oh god, _ hums to himself.  “It is an honor to be healed by such a talented healer.  Farewell,” he finishes with another bow, this one feeling much more respectful, and disappeared.  Your heart in your ears and the scent of rain the only remnants of his presence.

 

“Ya alright there darlin’?”  McCree.

 

You feel so out of breath.  “I think I’m in love”.

 

Jesse pats your arm, consolingly.  “I’m so sorry”.

  
  
  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  
  


You never usually participated in the weekly scrimmage of battling, but something compelled you to join this week.  The name of said something was Hanzo being in it as well, and while watching him lift weights and spar from afar in hiding was pleasant, you’d like to see him in action.

 

You didn’t know that you wouldn’t particularly have time to do this due to it being a  _ brawl _ , but you really should have figured.  

 

You’d been darting about, throwing stuns and smoke bombs in the enemy's eyes, whilst Soldier: 76 snapped them up.  This was working quite well, until Widowmaker turned her sights upon you.  You braced yourself to be eliminated, but you were suddenly thrown to the ground, a heavy weight settling above you.  “ _ Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau! _ ” cried the shadow above you, dual dragons bursting from the marksman above you.

 

**WIDOWMAKER ELIMINATED.**

 

**BASTION ELIMINATED.**

 

**RED TEAM WINS.**

 

You find yourself unable to look away from such a fierce face.  You’ve seen his fights on recordings, but never in person had you seen such a terrifying expression.  You feel a pressure upon your belly.   _ Oh.  Oh no.  Not now, arousal. _

 

“Are you alright?” Hanzo asks with concern and  _ he is still sitting on your hips did he notice how you reacted? _

 

“Y-Yes!  You uh you’re still um…” you gesture to your connected hips with a squeak and his ears turn red.  

 

He hoists himself away  _ No wait come back _ and offers you a hand.  You take it gratefully, when your team comes up suddenly and pats Hanzo on the back, cheering.

 

You feel rather out of place, his hand still in yours.  You release it in embarrassment, and you rush away, tittering excuses.

 

You gotta get to your room and wait out this embarrassment.

  
  
  


\---------------------------------------

  
  
  


“-and I almost called him  _ my darling _ earlier, like, how would I even explain that?   _ ‘Oh yes, Hanzo my darling, that’s what I call you in my loneliest fantasies, when I’m blowing you after you come back from scrimmages, and when I wax poetic about your smile’ _ .  Stupid, sexy Hanzo…”  You grumble, motioning for Jesse to throw some popcorn into your mouth, while you tap through Orochi’s monologue.

 

Jesse, the little fuckwit, just guffaws jovially and you make a small annoyed sound as he tosses a few pieces into your mouth.  “Sounds like you really got it bad.  Do I need to shovel talk him yet?”

 

You moan in agony.  What is your life.

 

“Hey, Hanzo!  We were just talkin’ ‘bout ya!”   _ Oh no. _

 

“ _ Jesse, no! Oh god, oh no- _ ” you hiss, but the damage is done.  Hanzo is walking to the two of you.

 

“Hello.  McCree.  (Y/n)” replies the marksman.  “What are you both… watching?”

 

“Some game (Y/n)’s tryin’ ta get me into.  I’m not buyin’ into it though,” Jesse replies offhandedly.  “It’s kinda boring”.

 

You are so offended you pause.  “I’m a god reincarnated as a wolf and I get to kick the shit out of an 8 headed dragon,  _ what the fuck is your idea of entertaining? _ ” you snap.  

 

He raises his hands defensively.  “Don’t go snappin’ at me now, just sayin’ my honest opinion”.

 

“Well, your opinion can eat shit,” you grumble.

 

To your surprise, Hanzo snickers, and if that isn’t the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.  He collects himself with a curious grin.  “And… what is this called?  The style is very… similar to my homeland’s”.

 

You brighten.  “It’s called  Ōkami, and it’s basically one of the most amazing games that’s ever existed, an-  _ Jesse where the fuck do you think you’re going? _ ”

 

“I’m bored, have fun with Hawkeye!” he calls over his shoulder.

 

You are mildly offended, and nervous at the prospect of being  _ alone _ with the handsome marksman, now sitting in Jesse’s forgotten seat next to you.  “Ōkami?  Wolf?”

 

You blush, fully aware that you are quite close.  “It’s a classic,” you gush, trying to distract yourself.  “Have you never heard of it?”  

 

He shakes his head, staring at the pause screen.  “The art is very engaging, however.  What is it about?”

 

You recount some of the tale, trying not to spoil, of the tale of Amaterasu the sun goddess incarnate as a wolf, restoring balance to land of Nippon.  Finding him looking engaged you offer the remote.  “Why don’t you try?  You’ve got good hand-eye coordination, I bet you’d wreck Yamata no Orochi!”

 

He waves his hand dismissively.  “I do not think I would be very good or find it as satisfying as you do”.

 

You grin.  “Oh yes you would!  And if for no one else’s satisfaction, do it for mine!  I get watch your Ōkami virginity drain from you, and watching virgins is the best thing a gamer can have!”  You pause realizing what you said, as Hanzo’s cheeks flush.  “N-Not like that!  I meant- the game- I’ll just shut up n-now…”

 

Hanzo stumbles.  “If it would make you so happy, I would be honored to experience your favorite game…”

 

You begin a new file, and watch Hanzo’s expression through the prologue, the tiny flickers of emotion giving you life.  Your absolute favorite game , and you get to share it with your crush, and not only that, but also watch his first, unfiltered reactions.  

 

This was bliss.

 

Hanzo stumbled at the games slightly, before picking up the controls.  You offer half your blanket to Hanzo, who at first denies, until you see him shiver.  Then you demand it, and you are both cuddled at one end of the couch, your comforter thrown over both of your shoulders and his.  You are often distracted by the heat radiating from his skin.  He was careful not to touch you at first, but grew lax after you said you didn’t mind (you really craved his touch) and scooted yourself closer.

 

You watched, as he healed his first Guardian Sapling, his face bright with amazement.  “Pretty, huh?” you said with a smile.

 

He turns, a small smile on his face, before it  _ shifts _ .  “Beautiful,” he says, breathlessly.  

 

You find yourself almost in his lap.  You hadn’t thought you’d gotten so… so close…

 

You find yourself helpless to him, Hanzo drawing closer.  “ _ Stop me _ ,” he whispers, pleadingly.  

 

You don’t.  You can’t.  You’ve wanted this for so long, and it just falls into your lap, wrapped up like a present.  You find yourself helpless as he leans in and kisses you.

 

It’s soft, like flower petals brushing your skin.  You feel frozen, afraid to take more than he will offer.  You whimper into his lips, trying to swallow this feeling of completion.  It’s peaceful, but like you’re wildly in motion at the same time.  He presses into you softly, and draws away, eyes half-lidded, licking his lips.  “I… I am sorry”.

 

You shake your head, dizzy.  “Don’t be.  I, uh, I’ve been wanting that for… a long time,” you mention, braver with your head full of endorphins.

 

He looks into you startled.  “You have?”  Like he can’t believe it.  You can’t either.

 

“Yeah…” you mention, flustered.  “I’ve kinda had a thing for you…” you catch his confused expression.  “...Thinking of you, romantically, I mean, for uh, as long as I’ve known you”.  He seems dizzied by this information.  You lick your lips.  He tastes like fruit.  You draw yourself closer.  “Can… can I kiss you again?”

 

He swallows, nodding.  You slowly advance, finding yourself in his lap.  You press yourself into his warm, hard body.  Finally, you press your lips to his, softly at first, but slowly turning deeper into him.  He gasps softly when your hands slip under the top of his jinbei, and rake your nails gently over his quivering abdomen.  You find yourself increasingly bolder, kissing down to his neck, and you bite unhurriedly into the thick cord of his neck.  He moans softly, tilting his head back to give you more room, and your raze your teeth along his adam's apple, licking slightly.

 

You breathe hard into him, pressing yourself closer to him, and you can  _ feel him _ .  You grasp his hands in your own, guiding one to your stomach, whispering  _ touch me _ into his ear.  He can’t help but comply, and with your hand on his, roves his hand along your stomach and under your hoodie.  His other hand coming to rest on your cheek, lips pressing along your shoulder.  You pull away his top to bite into that tattoo on his shoulder like you always have, teeth sinking in deeply.  He groans, rutting upwards into you as he flicks his thumb along your nipple.  You cry out, and you find your hands full of the supple flesh of his ass.  You moan, the two of you trading bites and bruises into your shoulders, salty from sweat as he flicks the hardened bead of flesh between his fingers when you hear the beckoning chime of your death.

 

The door opens to Morrison, full gear, and staring right at the two of you.

 

You swallow, both of you stiffening and staring wide eyed at Morrison, suddenly fully aware that Hanzo is absolutly getting a handful of second base right in front of your commander.

 

Morrison pauses, obviously not expecting to see this.  “...Lights out in 20…” he says, tone as tight as ever.

 

You nod faintly, neither of you moving, as though Morrison was a cockblocking dinosaur and wouldn’t see Hanzo’s hand up your shirt if you just didn’t move.  “Yes sir,” you replied, voice hoarse.

 

Hanzo echos your reply, his voice deep and thick with arousal.  You shiver.  Morrison nods and leaves.

 

You are both still frozen, but you and Hanzo find a way to awkwardly lean away from each other.  “I- uh.  Well, this has been fun,” you say with a shaking smile, chuckling awkwardly.  “Sure wasn’t expecting…  _ any  _ of that, really, but that last bit with Jack sure was a loop to jump”.

 

Hanzo nods nervously, straightening your thick hoodie so your nipples weren’t as visible.  “I would like to see you… perhaps not to do these… ah,  _ activities _ , but certainly to be with each other again…”

 

You feel hope rising in your chest.  “Are you asking me on a date?”

 

He looks away, flustered.  “...Yes”.

 

You laughin with a grin.  “I’d love to!”  He looks up in surprise and you laugh again.  “You touched my chest, you think I’m not going to want to date you?”

 

He smiles back, eyes half lidded like a contented fox.  “Thank you.  I found  Ōkami quite engaging as well”.

 

“Well, shit, let’s just do that for a while,” you mention, sliding slyly up to his side.  “Maybe I’ll even let you touch my  _ tiddies _ again,” you mention, cackling at his blush

 

He shoves you playfully and you fall overdramatically onto the floor, and pretend to be dead.

  
As you smile at his laughter, you feel as though this is the beginning of a wonderful relationship.


	2. DFAB Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The DFAB smut. Your prayers have been answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the second I mentioned smut all of your rose from your graves and fucking smashed the kudos and left great comments, and I was like, "shit, now I gotta go through with it".
> 
> I'd also like to say that my smut is fun for everyone, and the next chapter has a DMAB reader. Everything is still gender neutral. Also, the word cunt is hella sexy.
> 
> I'd also like to add that Tobi is my fav from Okami. No one is allowed to tell me he isn't amazing. That racing slip of paper slipped into my heart.

You’d never been inside Hanzo’s room until now, and he hadn’t even invited you in.

 

You’d knocked on the door, but when no one answered, you’d gone ahead in.  You figured he wouldn’t mind.  Hanzo was fairly private, but he didn’t hide anything if one only asked.  The inside was minimalistic; hell, all the rooms in Overwatch had been at one point, but most people redecorated.  Not Hanzo.  He had at least repainted it to a pale yellow, but no photographs or paintings decorated the walls.  A chair in the corner.  Large couch that came with the room (you’d replaced yours long ago, these were fucking uncomfortable) and a table. 

 

You’d need to convince him to redecorate later.

 

Walking to the only other room, you happened upon an open door, revealing your boyfriend, sitting cross-legged.  “Hey,” you call quietly, hoping to rouse him gently, before noticing a photograph on his bedside.  You edge toward it as Hanzo turns to you.  You smile, slowly grabbing the photo so he would have time to tell you not to if he truly didn’t want you to see.  His eyes flick to it, but he still retains his attention on you.  “Soup’s on,” you mention, and he nods.  You glance at the photo, smiling.  It was clearly Hanzo, though much, much younger.  His hair didn’t have the slight silver at the sides, and was longer, and down, a far cry from the usual tight knot he had it in every day you’d seen him.  

 

Around his shoulder was an arm slung from a shorter, green haired boy with a bottle of alcohol in his hand, cheering and holding Hanzo close with a grin, hugging him tightly.  Hanzo appeared as though he was  _ trying _ to look as annoyed as possible, like he had been handed the most tedious of tasks, but there was a quirk in the frown and an undeniable fondness to his eyes, along with an arm around the wild young man’s waist, to support the drunken boy.

 

Hanzo is suddenly beside you, peering over your shoulder, silently.  “You’re shorter, here,” you muse, tracing a finger on the frame.  Hanzo hums.  “Did you ever dye your hair?” you ask.

 

“No, I had to set example for Genji.  Of course, he never followed.  He made up his own rules,” he said quietly.

 

“Shame,” you muse.  “You’d pull off blue so well.  So that’s him then?”

 

He nods.

 

“Heh.  He looks like someone I would have hung out with back in the day.  I was a wild child back then too,” you muse.  You were glad you’d quit smoking.

 

“Back  _ then? _ ” he asked snarkily.

 

You make an offended noise, before dissolving into silence, leading him out.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  


A few days later is when Hanzo would be in your room for the first time.

 

You were both on the couch again (you in your pajamas and Hanzo in his usual clothes) for your weekly game night.  Occasionally, you’d bring something different, though not another story game; your policy was one at a time for those (a special exception for sandbox games like Skyrim).  You had finally brought him to Oni Island.  In fact, you were both so enamored with racing Tobi that you realized it was almost an hour past lights out.  

 

Let’s be clear: nothing terrible would happen to anyone that got caught past the time declared “lights out”, but it would still be a mild inconvenience to you, who would get the fatherly disappointment stare from 76, and though tolerable, it was still annoying feel like a terrible person afterward.

 

“Shit, we gotta sneak,” you grumble, pulling the game from the system and returning it to its case.

 

“I will have no trouble getting back, but will you be fine?” asked Hanzo carefully, peering into the dark hall.

 

You nod, then remember- “Hey wait, isn’t your room on the other side of the building?”

 

“Well, yes-”

 

“No way you’re going back there!  Come with me, I’m right down the hall!” you interrupt.

 

Hanzo freezes.  “You… want me to come with you to spend the night…. In your room?  WIth you?”

 

You grimace, awkward.  “Well, I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just thought it would be more convenient for you, you know…  Only if you want to!”

 

He nods in the dark.  “Do you want me to?”

 

You lick your lips nervously.  “Kinda, yeah”.

 

The two of you slide back to your room quietly, and manage to avoid waking anyone, and slide through your door.  You turn on a dim light you had, specifically for these sorts of predicaments and lead him to your room.  You’d personalized your room much more than your boyfriend had.  (F/c) walls, covered with band and game posters, and a single framed picture of your old home, and a desk with blueprints and medical textbooks covering it.

 

“I will spend the night on the couch,” Hanzo says with certainty,

 

“Uh, no.  No you aren’t,” you say, twice as certain.

 

“(F/n), I’m not taking your bed away from you,” Hanzo replies firmly.

 

You sigh.  “That’s not what I’m saying”.

 

Hanzo pauses in the dark, and you sigh again, dragging him to your room.  You leave him standing awkwardly while you dig through your drawers, pulling out sweatpants and a shirt.  You throw them to him and point to the bathroom.  “You can change in there”.

 

“You want me to sleep in the same bed as you?” he asks quietly.

 

You frown, self consciousness catching up with you.  “Well, if you really don’t want to, I guess you could take the couch, but I’d really rather you sleep with me”.

 

Without another word, Hanzo heads to the bathroom, untying his hair.  You sigh, worried you said the wrong thing, and hop into bed, turning the lights off.  You curl under the blankets, when Hanzo walks out, and carefully crawls into bed.

 

Overwatch’s standard beds were regular twin beds.  However, you had gotten one of the bigger and slightly better ones, although you were ‘late to the party’ as Jesse often commented.  So it was easy to see that Hanzo had taken that to mean he should stay as far from you as possible, and be as small as he could be. 

 

After a bit of awkward tossing and turning, you finally sat up, and whispered, “Okay, this is really awkward, can you just come over here?”

 

Hanzo whispers an apology and shuffles closer, until you feel his legs against yours and his chest on your arm.  “Is this… fine?”

 

You slide down, arranging yourself against him.  “Yeah, just let me… there”.  You fold yourself into his side, pulling his legs in to tangle with yours, and lay your head against his chest, and rub your nose into his stubble, enjoying his masculine scent with a quiet sigh.  “This is so great.  Just really nice.  If this is okay with you, can we do this more often?”

 

“...I would like that.  Is this okay?” he asks hesitantly, pulling an arm around you, pulling you into his side.

 

You hum happily, and press a kiss to his chin.  “Goodnight,” you mumbled and find yourself slowly falling asleep, Hanzo’s own “Pleasant dreams,” lost on your ears.

  
  
  


\------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  


Nights with Hanzo were always wonderful.  Morrison never really cared much to enforce gender division and the rules against room sharing.  He thought they were stupid, and said anyone would perform better after sex, so he really didn’t care, as long as they were quiet, though it wasn’t hard after all the rooms were soundproofed thanks to Junkrat (your ears had rung for days with that explosion).

 

Not that that was what you were doing.

 

The closest you’d ever come, other than the first game night, was in the mornings when you sat in Hanzo’s lap and he’d kiss your ear, both of you too tired to worry about boundaries or appropriate actions.  You’d begun to worry that your boyfriend wasn’t as into you as you thought previously.  If you didn’t know him, you’d have thought he was going for a quick fuck and run, but Hanzo just wasn’t the type.

 

Hanzo held himself to a very high standard.  Then, he strives to beat that standard into the ground.  Needless to say, he was one of Overwatch’s best.  You had a feeling you knew why he pulled away every time you tried to take things farther.

 

And you weren’t going to let him run away without explanation anymore.

  
  
  


\---------------------------------------------

  
  
  


You’d planned this out.  Every game night, Hanzo would come back to your room.  Tonight, though, was the night.

 

He’d gotten used to laying with you, though he never instigated.  Never asked for more than you would be willing to give, though there was more you would that he still never asked for.

 

You brought him in and lay down on your respective sides of the bed.

 

“Hanzo?” you whispered.

 

“Yes?” he asked quietly, still very awake.

 

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his.  Pleased, you sigh, and press closer, Hanzo’s hand cupping your face, the other rubbing your knuckles.  You rolled closer slowly, trying to ease into the mood, afraid to scare him away.  Each time he ended the kiss, you pressed on, biting his lip and rolling onto him.  You devoured each moan, urging him on.  “You keep hiding from me.  Why?”

 

Hanzo’s head rolls back, and you nip at his neck, his hands stilling in your hair.  “I do not know of what you speak,” he groans helplessly against your war on his adam’s apple.

 

You draw back your lips and bite the enticing shoulder muscle, hands moving to his hips.  He was stronger than you are, but you knew he wouldn’t move if you pressed them to the bed.  Your thumbs rubbed his hipbones.  “Liar,” you grumble sternly, licking the bite.

 

Hanzo growls, head tossing to the side, allowing more access.  “I do not hide from you,” he replies, when your nails dig into the flesh of his ass.

 

You frown and slowly roll your hips on his thigh.  “You could get anyone you wanted, and you chose to be with me.  Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll lose you to someone better,” you admit.

 

He suddenly rolls you onto your back, his knee coming between your thighs as he grinds his sex against you, hard and hot on your thigh.  “I would never leave you.  I  _ could _ never leave you.  You are… so much more than I, ah, ever could have hoped or wanted.  I don’t deserve such a wonderful person to be with”.

 

You gasp, his teeth on your neck.  “Is that what you’re,  _ Oh yes, _ so afraid of?  I don’t want anyone else but you,” you moan, taking his hand to push up your shirt.  “I don’t want you to be afraid to touch me.  I don’t want you to hide.  I want you to stay, if you’ll have me.  I want all of this.  I want to show you how much you mean to me.  You  _ do _ deserve this.  You deserve all of this and more,” you growl, rolling your hips on his thigh, and he hisses through grit teeth when your warm sex slides along his thigh.  “I love you so much.  I hate seeing you suffer because you think you’re less than me”.

 

“Koishiteru,” he whispers in your ear, and you shiver unexpectedly at the sound of his first language.  “I love you.  I didn’t mean to drive you away,” he sighed, rolling his hips slowly, softly pressing his lips to yours.  “I didn’t mean to drive you away.  I don’t want to lose you”.

 

You pulled his hand higher, resting on your heart, feeling the thumpin of the beats.  “I’m not going anywhere.  You can touch me.   _ Please _ touch me”.

 

He tugged on your shirt questioningly and you pulled it off without hesitation, drawing him in for a hot kiss.  You drew his hand to your breast, but he leaned down, pressing between your legs and pulled a nipple into his mouth.  You cry out, biting a knuckle as he swirls his tongue carefully along the nub of flesh, flicking his tongue against it teasingly as he pinched the other.  You question who’s idea it was to have so many nerve endings in one place and knot your fingers in his hair.  You feel teeth, and you’ve never been more glad that the rooms are soundproof.  He bites down and suckles softly.

 

You pull him off your breast and claim his mouth for yourself, and feel his smile against your lips.  You return his grin and pull his shirt over his head.  You waste little time pinching his nipple and rake your nails along his navel the way you know will make him shiver.  You sink your teeth into the dragon on his shoulder and growl, rolling your hips on his.  You feel his hands at your pajama pants edge, and encourage him to get them off of you, and you return the favor.

 

It’s dark, but you can still make out the outline of his cock, thick and hot on your thigh.  You roll against him, your cunt sliding against his thigh, leaving a wet trail against his skin.  He hisses, pulling away, to slip down and kiss your stomach.  “I… May I taste you?” he pleads, his eyes half lidded.

 

You bite your lip, and roll your hips.  “Please,” you whisper.  

 

He grins against your hip with delight, grazing his teeth against your hipbone and nipping at the soft skin of your inside thigh.  His lips move to your pussy, and he licks tenderly along the whole of it, slow and tasting like a good meal.  You can’t help the twitch of your hips as you spread your legs wider.  He pulls them over his shoulders and hikes them up to spread you open.  He trails a finger along your outside, flicking over your clit, and lapping at you.  You drip onto his chin and he smirks, licking you out and open.  He takes his time, sucking your clit and opening you, like a present.

 

He laves at you once more, before his tongue breaches you at last, and you feel like crying.  You might be, actually.  One of your hands tightens its hold in his hair as his fingers prepare you in aid of his tongue, the wet muscle sliding and stroking your core and drinking you in.  One of his teeth catches your clit and you buck, hissing.  You feel him pull back in surprise, before he hesitantly takes your clit with his tongue, slipping more fingers in to stroke your sweet spot as he sucks the bead of nerves into his mouth and oh so  _ carefully _ bites down, and you  _ scream _ .

 

You’re frozen, mouth fallen open, and lungs screaming with release, Hanzo’s hair your only anchor as he sucks at your cunt, licking the release up, and pressing a kiss to your thigh.

 

Coming down from your high, you relax, rolling your neck open when he nuzzles the hollow of your throat and let him nip and suck.  You hike your knees over his shoulders once again from where they had fallen, and bend yourself open for him, and reach a hand around his cock, thick and heavy with blood.

 

Hanzo loses himself a moment in the tightness of your grasp, to your pleasure, allowing you to watch his jaw drop and pant into your ear.  “I want you,” you plead.

 

“You can have me,” he replies breathlessly, as though he’d want nothing more.

 

“You can keep me, too,” you agree.

 

Hanzo thrusts his cock against your cunt, tip catching on the rim, but sliding away teasingly.  You plead his name, rolling your hips to his, catching the tip of his cock on your cunt.  You cry when he presses you knees gently to the side of your head on the pillow and slowly fills you.  You cry out, biting his shoulder, flesh giving way under your teeth.  You suck the skin into your mouth, tasting blood, as he thrusts slowly into your tight heat.  He fills you to your brim, and presses in even more, forcing your body to give way to him, and it’s the best feeling to have him finally  _ take _ from you.

 

You’re still so sensitive from earlier, but the full sensation is everything you could have hoped for and more.  It feels like there’s so much of him, and it disappears leaving you pleadingly empty for a moment.  Your body quakes under him, his thrusts forceful enough to have you screaming, your body spread too open, and each time feels better than the first, filling you up.  Hanzo is setting a bruising pace, forcing your quivering body to keep up, and squeeze around him as he curses in his mother tongue.  

 

His thumb presses between you awkwardly until it finds its mark on your clit and you howl, orgasm rippling through you.  You hear him growl into your ear, sucking your lobe and tugging as he presses as deep as he can into your hot cunt, and all you can do is take.  He humps against you, like an animal, all traces of self consciousness gone as you feel his hot seed fill your body.  

 

His body finally gives and lowers your legs to his hips, ready to slip out, but you lock your legs around him, enjoying the feeling him soften in you, his release milked from him.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.  You sigh, and reluctantly release him from your leg-cage.  It was a good cage, you mourn, your body loose and relaxed, spent.  

 

You feel his release spill from you slightly.  Your lips quirk.  “Hanzo,” you call.  He looks at you from above curiously.  You raise a leg and slip a pair of fingers into yourself, and you shiver, still oversensitive, and bring his cum to your fingers.  His eyes are wide as you pop them into your mouth and suck him off of them like a treat.  

 

“You are  _ very _ dangerous, love,” he says in awe.

 

“Good.  Remember that.  No more hiding,” you scold, licking your fingers.

  
Hanzo shivers.  “No more hiding,” he agrees.  “I’m unsure whether there is any place I  _ can _ hide from you, anyhow”.


	3. DMAB smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DMAB smut as promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for the DFAB smut, its the previous chapter, smarty-pants.

You’d never been inside Hanzo’s room until now, and he hadn’t even invited you in.

 

You’d knocked on the door, but when no one answered, you’d gone ahead in.  You figured he wouldn’t mind.  Hanzo was fairly private, but he didn’t hide anything if one only asked.  The inside was minimalistic; hell, all the rooms in Overwatch had been at one point, but most people redecorated.  Not Hanzo.  He had at least repainted it to a pale yellow, but no photographs or paintings decorated the walls.  A chair in the corner.  Large couch that came with the room (you’d replaced yours long ago, these were fucking uncomfortable) and a table. 

 

You’d need to convince him to redecorate later.

 

Walking to the only other room, you happened upon an open door, revealing your boyfriend, sitting cross-legged.  “Hey,” you call quietly, hoping to rouse him gently, before noticing a photograph on his bedside.  You edge toward it as Hanzo turns to you.  You smile, slowly grabbing the photo so he would have time to tell you not to if he truly didn’t want you to see.  His eyes flick to it, but he still retains his attention on you.  “Soup’s on,” you mention, and he nods.  You glance at the photo, smiling.  It was clearly Hanzo, though much, much younger.  His hair didn’t have the slight silver at the sides, and was longer, and down, a far cry from the usual tight knot he had it in every day you’d seen him.  

 

Around his shoulder was an arm slung from a shorter, green haired boy with a bottle of alcohol in his hand, cheering and holding Hanzo close with a grin, hugging him tightly.  Hanzo appeared as though he was  _ trying _ to look as annoyed as possible, like he had been handed the most tedious of tasks, but there was a quirk in the frown and an undeniable fondness to his eyes, along with an arm around the wild young man’s waist, to support the drunken boy.

 

Hanzo is suddenly beside you, peering over your shoulder, silently.  “You’re shorter, here,” you muse, tracing a finger on the frame.  Hanzo hums.  “Did you ever dye your hair?” you ask.

 

“No, I had to set example for Genji.  Of course, he never followed.  He made up his own rules,” he said quietly.

 

“Shame,” you muse.  “You’d pull off blue so well.  So that’s him then?”

 

He nods.

 

“Heh.  He looks like someone I would have hung out with back in the day.  I was a wild child back then too,” you muse.  You were glad you’d quit smoking.

 

“Back  _ then? _ ” he asked snarkily.

 

You make an offended noise, before dissolving into silence, leading him out.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  


A few days later is when Hanzo would be in your room for the first time.

 

You were both on the couch again (you in your pajamas and Hanzo in his usual clothes) for your weekly game night.  Occasionally, you’d bring something different, though not another story game; your policy was one at a time for those (a special exception for sandbox games like Skyrim).  You had finally brought him to Oni Island.  In fact, you were both so enamored with racing Tobi that you realized it was almost an hour past lights out.  

 

Let’s be clear: nothing terrible would happen to anyone that got caught past the time declared “lights out”, but it would still be a mild inconvenience to you, who would get the fatherly disappointment stare from 76, and though tolerable, it was still annoying feel like a terrible person afterward.

 

“Shit, we gotta sneak,” you grumble, pulling the game from the system and returning it to its case.

 

“I will have no trouble getting back, but will you be fine?” asked Hanzo carefully, peering into the dark hall.

 

You nod, then remember- “Hey wait, isn’t your room on the other side of the building?”

 

“Well, yes-”

 

“No way you’re going back there!  Come with me, I’m right down the hall!” you interrupt.

 

Hanzo freezes.  “You… want me to come with you to spend the night…. In your room?  WIth you?”

 

You grimace, awkward.  “Well, I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just thought it would be more convenient for you, you know…  Only if you want to!”

 

He nods in the dark.  “Do you want me to?”

 

You lick your lips nervously.  “Kinda, yeah”.

 

The two of you slide back to your room quietly, and manage to avoid waking anyone, and slide through your door.  You turn on a dim light you had, specifically for these sorts of predicaments and lead him to your room.  You’d personalized your room much more than your boyfriend had.  (F/c) walls, covered with band and game posters, and a single framed picture of your old home, and a desk with blueprints and medical textbooks covering it.

 

“I will spend the night on the couch,” Hanzo says with certainty,

 

“Uh, no.  No you aren’t,” you say, twice as certain.

 

“(F/n), I’m not taking your bed away from you,” Hanzo replies firmly.

 

You sigh.  “That’s not what I’m saying”.

 

Hanzo pauses in the dark, and you sigh again, dragging him to your room.  You leave him standing awkwardly while you dig through your drawers, pulling out sweatpants and a shirt.  You throw them to him and point to the bathroom.  “You can change in there”.

 

“You want me to sleep in the same bed as you?” he asks quietly.

 

You frown, self consciousness catching up with you.  “Well, if you really don’t want to, I guess you could take the couch, but I’d really rather you sleep with me”.

 

Without another word, Hanzo heads to the bathroom, untying his hair.  You sigh, worried you said the wrong thing, and hop into bed, turning the lights off.  You curl under the blankets, when Hanzo walks out, and carefully crawls into bed.

 

Overwatch’s standard beds were regular twin beds.  However, you had gotten one of the bigger and slightly better ones, although you were ‘late to the party’ as Jesse often commented.  So it was easy to see that Hanzo had taken that to mean he should stay as far from you as possible, and be as small as he could be. 

 

After a bit of awkward tossing and turning, you finally sat up, and whispered, “Okay, this is really awkward, can you just come over here?”

 

Hanzo whispers an apology and shuffles closer, until you feel his legs against yours and his chest on your arm.  “Is this… fine?”

 

You slide down, arranging yourself against him.  “Yeah, just let me… there”.  You fold yourself into his side, pulling his legs in to tangle with yours, and lay your head against his chest, and rub your nose into his stubble, enjoying his masculine scent with a quiet sigh.  “This is so great.  Just really nice.  If this is okay with you, can we do this more often?”

 

“...I would like that.  Is this okay?” he asks hesitantly, pulling an arm around you, pulling you into his side.

 

You hum happily, and press a kiss to his chin.  “Goodnight,” you mumbled and find yourself slowly falling asleep, Hanzo’s own “Pleasant dreams,” lost on your ears.

  
  
  


\------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  


Nights with Hanzo were always wonderful.  Morrison never really cared much to enforce gender division and the rules against room sharing.  He thought they were stupid, and said anyone would perform better after sex, so he really didn’t care, as long as they were quiet, though it wasn’t hard after all the rooms were soundproofed thanks to Junkrat (your ears had rung for days with that explosion).

 

Not that that was what you were doing.

 

The closest you’d ever come, other than the first game night, was in the mornings when you sat in Hanzo’s lap and he’d kiss your ear, both of you too tired to worry about boundaries or appropriate actions.  You’d begun to worry that your boyfriend wasn’t as into you as you thought previously.  If you didn’t know him, you’d have thought he was going for a quick fuck and run, but Hanzo just wasn’t the type.

 

Hanzo held himself to a very high standard.  Then, he strives to beat that standard into the ground.  Needless to say, he was one of Overwatch’s best.  You had a feeling you knew why he pulled away every time you tried to take things farther.

 

And you weren’t going to let him run away without explanation anymore.

  
  
  


\---------------------------------------------

  
  
  


You’d planned this out.  Every game night, Hanzo would come back to your room.  Tonight, though, was the night.

 

He’d gotten used to laying with you, though he never instigated.  Never asked for more than you would be willing to give, though there was more you would that he still never asked for.

 

You brought him in and lay down on your respective sides of the bed.

 

“Hanzo?” you whispered.

 

“Yes?” he asked quietly, still very awake.

 

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his.  Pleased, you sigh, and press closer, Hanzo’s hand cupping your face, the other rubbing your knuckles.  You rolled closer slowly, trying to ease into the mood, afraid to scare him away.  Each time he ended the kiss, you pressed on, biting his lip and rolling onto him.  You devoured each moan, urging him on.  “You keep hiding from me.  Why?”

 

Hanzo’s head rolls back, and you nip at his neck, his hands stilling in your hair.  “I do not know of what you speak,” he groans helplessly against your war on his adam’s apple.

 

You draw back your lips and bite the enticing shoulder muscle, hands moving to his hips.  He was stronger than you are, but you knew he wouldn’t move if you pressed them to the bed.  Your thumbs rubbed his hipbones.  “Liar,” you grumble sternly, licking the bite.

 

Hanzo growls, head tossing to the side, allowing more access.  “I do not hide from you,” he replies, when your nails dig into the flesh of his ass.

 

You frown and slowly roll your hips on his thigh.  “You could get anyone you wanted, and you chose to be with me.  Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll lose you to someone better,” you admit.

 

He suddenly rolls you onto your back, his knee coming between your thighs as he grinds his sex against you, hard and hot on your thigh.  “I would never leave you.  I  _ could _ never leave you.  You are… so much more than I, ah, ever could have hoped or wanted.  I don’t deserve such a wonderful person to be with”.

 

You gasp, his teeth on your neck.  “Is that what you’re,  _ Oh yes, _ so afraid of?  I don’t want anyone else but you,” you moan, taking his hand to push up your shirt.  “I don’t want you to be afraid to touch me.  I don’t want you to hide.  I want you to stay, if you’ll have me.  I want all of this.  I want to show you how much you mean to me.  You  _ do _ deserve this.  You deserve all of this and more,” you growl, rolling your hips on his thigh, your bulge frotting against him, and he hisses through grit teeth when your warm sex slides along his thigh.  “I love you so much.  I hate seeing you suffer because you think you’re less than me”.

 

“Koishiteru,” he whispers in your ear, and you shiver unexpectedly at the sound of his first language.  “I love you.  I didn’t mean to drive you away,” he sighed, rolling his hips slowly, softly pressing his lips to yours.  “I didn’t mean to drive you away.  I don’t want to lose you”.

 

You pulled his hand higher, resting on your heart, feeling the thumpin of the beats.  “I’m not going anywhere.  You can touch me.   _ Please _ touch me”.

 

He tugged on your shirt questioningly and you pulled it off without hesitation, drawing him in for a hot kiss.  You drew his hand to your chest, but he leaned down, pressing between your legs and pulled a nipple into his mouth.  You cry out, biting a knuckle as he swirls his tongue carefully along the nub of flesh, flicking his tongue against it teasingly as he pinched the other.  You question who’s idea it was to have so many nerve endings in one place and knot your fingers in his hair.  You feel teeth, and you’ve never been more glad that the rooms are soundproof.  He bites down and suckles softly.

 

You pull him off your nipple and claim his mouth for yourself, and feel his smile against your lips.  You return his grin and pull his shirt over his head.  You waste little time pinching his nipple and rake your nails along his navel the way you know will make him shiver.  You sink your teeth into the dragon on his shoulder and growl, rolling your hips on his, your sexes pressing together.  You feel his hands at your pajama pants edge, and encourage him to get them off of you, and you return the favor.

 

It’s dark, but you can still make out the outline of his cock, thick and hot on your thigh.  You roll against him, your ass sliding against his thigh, your cock leaving a wet trail  of precome against his skin.  He hisses, pulling away, to slip down and kiss your stomach.  “I… May I taste you?” he pleads, his eyes half lidded.

 

You bite your lip, and roll your hips.  “Please,” you whisper.  

 

He grins against your hip with delight, grazing his teeth against your hipbone and nipping at the soft skin of your inside thigh.  His lips move to your ass, and he licks tenderly along the whole of it, slow and tasting like a good meal.  You can’t help the twitch of your hips as you spread your legs wider.  He pulls them over his shoulders and hikes them up to spread you open.  He trails a finger along your outside, flicking over your rim, and lapping at you.  You drip onto his cheek and he smirks, licking you out and open.  He takes his time, sucking your reddened rim and opening you, like a present.

 

He laves at you once more, before his tongue breaches you at last, and you feel like crying.  You might be, actually.  One of your hands tightens its hold in his hair as his fingers prepare you in aid of his tongue, the wet muscle sliding and stroking your core and drinking you in.  One of his teeth catches your rim and you buck, hissing.  You feel him pull back in surprise, before he hesitantly takes some of your rim with his tongue, slipping more fingers in to stroke your sweet spot as he sucks the stretch of muscle into his mouth and oh so  _ carefully _ nips and tugs, and you  _ scream _ .

 

You’re frozen, mouth fallen open, and lungs screaming with release, Hanzo’s hair your only anchor as he sucks at your ass, licking the release on your thigh up, and pressing a kiss to the skin on your stomach.

 

Coming down from your high, you relax, rolling your neck open when he nuzzles the hollow of your throat and let him nip and suck.  You hike your knees over his shoulders once again from where they had fallen, and bend yourself open for him, and reach a hand around your cocks, his thick and heavy with blood, and yours working back to half-hard.

 

Hanzo loses himself a moment in the tightness of your grasp, to your pleasure, allowing you to watch his jaw drop and pant into your ear.  “I want you,” you plead.

 

“You can have me,” he replies breathlessly, as though he’d want nothing more.

 

“You can keep me, too,” you agree.

 

Hanzo thrusts his cock against your hole, tip catching on the edge, but sliding away teasingly.  You plead his name, rolling your hips to his, catching the tip of his cock on your hole.  You cry when he presses you knees gently to the side of your head on the pillow and slowly fills you.  You cry out, biting his shoulder, flesh giving way under your teeth.  You suck the skin into your mouth, tasting blood, as he thrusts slowly into your tight heat.  He fills you to your brim, and presses in even more, forcing your body to give way to him, and it’s the best feeling to have him finally  _ take _ from you.

 

You’re still so sensitive from earlier, but the full sensation is everything you could have hoped for and more.  It feels like there’s so much of him, but it disappears leaving you pleadingly empty for a moment.  Your body quakes under him, his thrusts forceful enough to have you screaming, your body spread too open, and each time feels better than the first, filling you up.  Hanzo is setting a bruising pace, forcing your quivering body to keep up, and squeeze around him as he curses in his mother tongue.  

 

His hand presses between you awkwardly until it finds its mark on your cock and you howl, orgasm painting your quivering abs.  You hear him growl into your ear, sucking your lobe and tugging as he presses as deep as he can into your hot channel, and all you can do is take.  He humps against you, like an animal, all traces of self consciousness gone as you feel his hot seed fill your body.  

 

His body finally gives and lowers your legs to his hips, ready to slip out, but you lock your legs around him, enjoying the feeling him soften in you, his release milked from him.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.  You sigh, and reluctantly release him from your leg-cage.  It was a good cage, you mourn, your body loose and relaxed, spent.  

 

You feel his release spill from you slightly.  Your lips quirk.  “Hanzo,” you call.  He looks at you from above curiously.  You raise a leg and slip a pair of fingers into yourself, and you shiver, still oversensitive, and bring his cum to your fingers.  His eyes are wide as you pop them into your mouth and suck him off of them like a treat.  

 

“You are  _ very _ dangerous, love,” he says in awe.

 

“Good.  Remember that.  No more hiding,” you scold, licking your fingers.

  
Hanzo shivers.  “No more hiding,” he agrees.  “I’m unsure whether there is any place I  _ can _ hide from you, anyhow”.

**Author's Note:**

> Ōkami is one of my most favorite games, right next to Wind Waker, Shadow of the Colossus, and Journey. I just like visually appealing games, I guess.
> 
> The joke about the blind girl giving blowjobs is another of my favorites and it goes:
> 
> "There's a blind girl giving blowjobs at parties. She grabs the guy's dick and says in amazement, 'Wow, this is the biggest dick I've ever felt!'. The man replies, 'Ah, you're pulling my leg'".
> 
> Remember to comment, or you won't get the smut if you want it.


End file.
